The Prefects' Bathroom Dilemma, Our Complete Story Options

[evlpez]

Chapter One

Prefects, Portraits, and Pandemonium by Anhaire

A pair of green eyes, illuminated faintly by the full moon, hovered in the darkness.

“Harry Potter, sir.”

A squeaky voice sounded somewhere above Harry’s head. He rolled over and resettled himself beneath his cozy covers.

“Harry Potter, sir! Wake up!”

The voice was quiet, but penetrating. Harry opened his eyes and sat up. A cool breeze played across his bed. He looked around and saw only blackness. Taking out his wand, he whispered, “Lumos!”

The wand’s thin beam of light showed him nothing around his bed. Then he saw the open window and the pale gray form of a house elf with green eyes, barely visible.

“Harry Potter, sir! Come quickly!”

“Dobby?” Harry asked, amazed. “What-”


“There is no time. Harry Potter must come with Dobby!”

Harry sat up and pulled on his dressing gown. He picked up his wand and the Marauder’s Map, and then glanced back at the house elf.

“How did you get up there?” he asked.


“Dobby used a hover charm, sir, but Harry Potter must fly. Please come help Dobby, sir!”

Harry hesitated a moment, then took his Firebolt from his trunk, mounted it, and slipped out the window. Motioning Harry away, Dobby slid the window closed with his long fingers.


“Thank you, Harry Potter sir!” Dobby said. “Dobby knew Harry Potter would come to help him.”

“But what do you need help with, Dobby? It isn’t even dawn yet.”

Dobby’s head drooped slightly.

“Dobby is sorry, sir, but he needs help. Dobby was in the Prefect’s Bathroom, sir, on the fifth floor, to take a bath, but something is wrong there. The bath doesn’t work, sir!”

“That doesn’t seem too serious,” said Harry, thinking of muggle plumbing, which always needed fixing. He wondered if Dobby’s display of anxiety had been histrionics, designed to get him out of the castle.

“Harry Potter must understand! No one can change the structure of Hogwarts Castle! It would take powerful dark magic, sir! Will you help Dobby?”

“All right,” Harry said, feeling a bit uneasy. “Let’s go.”

Dobby led the way, looking eerie as he drifted along. He kept close to the castle, eyeing the grounds warily. Suddenly he stopped.

“Hide, Harry Potter sir!”

Harry dodged behind a large, decorated window ledge. Peering out, he saw what had alarmed the house elf. Professor Sprout had risen early, and was tending the whortleberry bushes growing outside Greenhouse Two. She had begun teaching the sixth years about the magical properties of the plant only the day before.


“I think it’s safe,” Harry whispered. “It’s still too dark for her to see us.”

Dobby nodded, then turned and rose one floor. He pushed open a small window and floated through. Harry followed with difficulty. After squeezing through, he landed on the beautiful marble floor of the prefect’s bathroom. The first thing he noticed was the large painting of a mermaid about the bath- or at least, it had showed a mermaid on Harry’s last visit to this room. Now it was empty.


“She must have gone to visit one of the other portraits,” thought Harry, but he couldn’t shake off a feeling of unease.

“Look sir,” Dobby said. “Look at the taps.”

Harry looked and saw nothing. He tried turning one on- nothing. After trying about a dozen, he found one that still gushed scented bubbles. He had almost given up on the rest of the taps when a white, ghostly blur rushed out of one. It hovered in midair and seemed to resettle its shape. Harry gasped.

“Peeves?”

The ghost did not answer. He looked almost serious.

“Peeves, what happened? Why were you in there?”

Harry had never dreamed that he might speak this way to the poltergeist.

“Are you all right?”

Peeves did not reply or change his expression. Without a single jest or rude remark, he turned and floated out of the room. Stunned, Harry stared after him for a moment.

“Dobby? Do you know what was wrong with him?”

Dobby’s teeth were chattering.

“Dobby is not knowing, sir, but Dobby is guessing that things are very wrong at Hogwarts...”

Harry had to agree. He started to search the bathroom, looking through all the towels and sinks. He had almost given up when he thought to look in the ornamental jardinière in the corner. Normally it held a decorative fern. Inside, stuck to one of the fronds, was a fragment of parchment. Harry pulled it off carefully.

Prefect’s Bathroom- 5th floor
Password: Spring Flower

Harry held it in his hands, reading and rereading the message. Whoever damaged the bathroom had probably dropped it by accident, but that was not what troubled him. It appeared someone gave the intruder the password, and only prefects knew it. Prefects- they were supposed to be the most responsible students in Hogwarts! Could it even have been Ron or Hermione who had betrayed the school? Harry wasn’t sure. Finally, he turned to the house elf.

“Dobby,” he said, “I’m not sure what I can do about this.”

Dobby’s eyes shone with trust. “Harry Potter will fix it, sir! Dobby knew he would!”

Harry shook his head. He didn’t know how he could solve any of the mystery if he couldn’t trust his own friends. Looking out the window, he saw that it was already dawn.

“I’m going back to the dormitory, Dobby. I’ll walk- it’s too risky to fly. I’ll just say I’m going to an early Quidditch practice, or something.”


Dobby nodded.

“Dobby must go too, sir. He must chop the herbs and vegetables for the jardinière we will serve for lunch. But Dobby will visit Harry Potter soon.”

With that, Dobby scuttled out of the room. Harry followed him more slowly, putting the scrap of parchment in his pocket. He had almost reached the common room when he heard a clattering behind him. It sounded a bit like horse hooves.

Ducking into a corner and pulling out the Marauder’s Map, Harry scanned it frantically. Coming down the hallway toward him was a dot labeled “Sir Cadogan.” Harry blinked, uncomprehending. Another dot, this one labeled “Mermaid,” was next to the first.

Knowing Sir Cadogan was a crazy knight in the painting on the way to divination, Harry leaned out of his hiding place for a better view. Coming down the corridor was, indeed, Sir Cadogan and the mermaid. She was life sized, but Sir Cadogan was rather small. Looking at them, he could see brushstrokes on their clothes and skin, though they appeared solid enough. Certainly, Sir Cadogan was making real noise. The mermaid moved along the corridor as if swimming. Apparently, the air was thick enough for her to engage in natation. Seeing Harry, she made noises in her croaky language.

“No,” Harry said. “No, this can’t be possible.”